Attack on High School
by HonestyIsMyPolicy
Summary: So, this is supposed to be the Attack on Titan characters in the normal world living normal lives and everyone's super into this video game that's supposed to be an Attack on Titan video game bad summary, so please read before judging
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so, this was a request from my friend; sorry if it's totally off base **

"_Eren?_" The voice is soft, maybe a tad worried? It comes through hazy like its being whispered through a wall.

"_Eren, you need to wake up now._" The voice continues. It's clearer this time.

"_What's wrong, Eren?_" The voice is coming from right above him. He imagines there's someone leaning over him, whispering to him. A guardian angel? That would be nice. His guardian angel here to protect him from the bad dreams.

"_Eren, why are you crying? Eren, we need to go home now. Eren, Eren, Eren…_"

The boy opens his eyes, peering up blearily at the girl leaning over him, the ends of her long black hair tickling his cheeks; she looks relieved that he's finally awake. "Your mom will be mad if we get home late again," Mikasa sighs. She smells like books and bubblegum and mint and faintly of smoke, although the smoke-y scent is probably from her scarf. His scarf. Their scarf.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." The boy, Eren, runs a hand over his hair as he props himself up. He fell asleep under a tree in the park again; summer vacation is within his reach, and the urge to laze about in the shade is occasionally too much for the boy to resist on the walk home from school. "Hurry up." Mikasa pulls him to his feet, handing him his backpack he was using as a pillow, and starts walking away while Eren follows slowly behind.

He doesn't know why he's crying. Well, was. One look at Mikasa's face and he wouldn't dare to show weakness. She might try to be all comforting again- and that was not a pretty sight. Her bear hug was like a constricting Death Grip of Doom. "So, why were you crying, Eren?" Mikasa looks back at him, tilting her head to the side in confusion, brown eyes wide with concern.

_You know, if she didn't go all psycho-demon-spawn sometimes, she'd totally be crush worthy. Plus, if she wasn't like a sister to me and whatever. That'd be cool._

Eren shakes off the dumb thought: Mikasa without psycho mode is just a fantasy. "I SO WAS NOT CRYING!"

Mikasa sighs, shakes her head slightly, and continues walking. She grips the straps of her backpack tightly, obviously upset with his response. _Don't let her make you feel bad, don't let her make you feel bad, don't let her- oh, damn it; just apologize like the weakling you are._ "Mikasa, I'm sorry I snapped at you," he grumbles out. She nods but doesn't say anything.

They continue to walk in silence, so Eren switches to observing their surroundings like one of the ninjas in his favorite manga; his head swivels back and forth and his eyes rove the landscape.

The streets are cluttered with students and the occasional adult that doesn't have a 9 to 5 job. Bright banners and huge signs advertise the multitude of shops, restaurants, et cetera crammed on either side of the road; a few buses grind to a halt at the stop before trundling down the cobblestone street. The only cars are haphazardly parallel parked beside the sidewalks so that only half the amount of cars that should fit do fit.

Their town, Shiganshina, is one of those historical, do-not-change-at-all towns where everything is styled to look old-timey and quaint. Although, to be quite honest, everything really just looks like it's in need of some serious cleaning and fixing up.

"Eren," Mikasa's voice snaps him from his thoughts and she tugs him out of the way just as a kid on a bike zooms past, calling back some choice words a stomp on the foot keeps Eren from returning. "You should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I totally was! That guy came out of nowhere!" he whines. Mikasa drags him along, keeping a firm grip on his arm in case she needs to save him- again. Maybe the whole guardian angel thing isn't so far off; she has saved him enough for that, although he'd never admit it.

Their apartment building- that looks run down and shabby beside a pretty, shiny new comic book store to its left and a squat McDonald's to its right- looms in front of them, entirely out of place on Main Street. There aren't many apartment buildings in Shinganshina; most residents prefer the cozy houses out in the subdivisions. Eren's best friend- and only friend, besides Mikasa, but she doesn't really count- Armin lives with his grandpa in an old two story house, which is a lot nicer than their dumb old apartment.

"Mrs. Jaeger, we're home." Mikasa calls softly while Eren stomps off to his bedroom, flopping gracelessly on his bed and starting the newest edition of Naruto. "Oh, good. Dinner will be ready soon." The smell of meat and garlic wafts from the kitchen and Eren's mouth waters and his stomach growls; his newfound hunger makes it hard to concentrate on the manga, so he tosses it aside in favor of playing a racing game on his Xbox.

~Later that evening~

"Hey there, son." Mr. Jaeger smiles at Eren, who Mikasa is forcibly restraining because the idiot wants to break the TV because he lost another round of some B-rated fighting game to Mikasa. "Having fun?"

Eren huffs and continues trying to break Mikasa's hold. "Mikasa, stop, I won't break anything, I just wanna play~" he whines, green eyes pleading with her. "That's what you said last time before you broke your PSP." She replies.

Mr. Jaeger- er, Dr. Jaeger, although he doesn't insist on the doctor part in informal situations- sidles into the kitchen where his wife is humming and washing the dishes. "I set aside some leftovers for you," she gestures to the table where a plate of still-hot food awaits him. "Ah, thank you, dearest." He plants a half kiss on her neck before shrugging off his coat and settling into the chair. Eren and Mikasa continue arguing- Eren loudly, Mikasa softly- and Mr. Jaeger can hear his wife's soft chuckles at the sight. "Such sweet children," she murmurs.

"Hm, sweet might be a little far, but they sure are some of the liveliest kids I've seen." Mr. Jaeger laughs.

Mrs. Jaeger merely smiles in response, continuing to hum an unfamiliar tune. After drying the last of the dishes and returning them to the cabinets, she turns to her husband, running her fingers through his messy hair, long enough now that he keeps it back in a ponytail. "Can you handle watching the kids while I make a quick run to the store? Eren's been begging for that new zombie game and I think he deserves a little something for his first no-failed-classes semester in years." Even though that's probably more thanks to Mikasa forcing him to study.

"Of course. Be careful, my love." He presses a single chaste kiss on her lips. "Always, Grisha." She ties her long, wavy brown hair up into a messy knot and grabs her purse and the car keys, carefully maneuvering around the fighting ten-year-olds, and disappearing out of the apartment.

Grisha finishes his dinner, eyeing a picture of the four of them contentedly; even though Mikasa's reasons for joining the family were tragic, it's been nice with her there. The girl is timid and quiet and closed off, but she fits easily with Eren, and Grisha doesn't have to worry about them so much. He knows they will take care of each other.

His eyes meander to his wife's face, pulling his lips into a tired smile. Even after all these years, she's still beautiful. Long, glossy brown waves that tumble messily down her back, light golden-brown eyes that are always full of happiness and laughter, pale unblemished skin, a pert nose he can't resist kissing every night before they go to bed, and the soft, kind smile that always seems to adorn her lips. Kalura is- and always will be- the most dazzling woman Grisha has ever seen.

An hour passes- maybe two- and Grisha alternates between playing video games with Eren and Mikasa and reading a new novel penned by an author that he's been following dutifully for years. Then the phone rings its shrill, annoying ring. Grisha glances at the kids: Eren is sitting cross-legged, pounding on the controller, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, hair mussed and spiky from being pulled at when he gets frustrated; Mikasa is calmly pressing buttons, readjusting her scarf, face devoid of emotion. No reason for him not to get off his lazy butt and pick up the phone.

"_Hello? Is this Mr. Jaeger?_"

"Yes, Dr. Jaeger, actually."

"_Dr. Jaeger, I hate to inform you, but your wife has been in an accident._"

And then Grisha's perfect family is smashed to smithereens.

**A/N: okay, so, I promise this won't be all sad and depressing forever but it might have it's sad parts; I plan to make it have some silly parts too. Comments are welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

"But I want it!" Eren grumbles as Armin and Mikasa force him out of the video game store empty-handed; he'd already wasted most of his allowance on the newest issues of his favorite manga, leaving him without the funds to buy the huge game that was just released.

"Then maybe you should've saved your money. It's not like you didn't know it was coming out." Armin replies, having no sympathy for the other boy. Mikasa offered to let Eren use her allowance, but Armin refused; Eren needed to learn responsibility or he'd end up wasting all their money on manga and video games. "But I wanted the manga, too!"

The trio continues in that fashion down the sidewalk- Eren whining, Armin lecturing, and Mikasa flipping through a book- past the old apartment building and the comic book store. Eren keeps up his rant, but only half-heartedly; that building brings back nice memories turned sour.

Kalura Jaeger died in a freak pile up on her way to the video game store to buy her son a new game he'd been begging for. There were at least eighteen casualties with many more injured. The narrow roads made it nearly impossible for anyone to avoid adding to the wreck in front of them, and it took hours for the paramedics and police to excavate enough to be of any use. A wake was planned, the apartment was sold- or unrented or whatever-, and Grisha dumped the kids with Armin and his grandfather. He kept contact with Eren and Mikasa to a minimum in favor of working as much as possible and supplying them with a very generous monthly allowance.

"You need to learn the value of money, or you'll end up destitute and homeless." Armin continues while Eren huffs indignantly and grumbles under his breath. "He's right, Eren. You shouldn't be so wasteful." Mikasa chimes in.

"Yeah, yeah; whatever. You two are just too uptight."

Once they reach the house, Eren disappears in his room, presumably to play video games, while Mikasa starts on dinner and Armin does his homework in the kitchen with her. "Have you started looking at the high schools Grandpa suggested?" he inquires, tapping a pencil to his lips and furrowing his brow at a particularly difficult math problem.

"A bit. You?"

"Yeah. I like the newer one; they have a really good baseball team. That might be good for Eren."

"That one does look nice, but it's a little expensive…"

"Don't worry about that; Grandpa and Dr. Jaeger already worked out all that stuff."

"Then, that one is probably the best choice."

"Okay. I'll tell Grandpa our decision. Do you want to tell Eren, or should I?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll have a tantrum either way."

"True. We could just not tell him, you know."

"But then he'd be quite upset the first day we drag him there."

"We could tie him up?"

"Armin."

"What? It's not a bad idea."

"_Armin_."

"Fine. I'll tell him after dinner."

Eren, not being the brightest crayon in the Crayola box, probably hasn't given high school a second thought; he's been making noises about just quitting school and getting a job at an arcade or video game store. This, of course, has not been accepted by his father or his friends. So, he's going.

"The answer is seven." Mikasa mentions casually as she stirs a pot of some kind of stew. Armin stops chewing on his pencil, glances down at his scribbled out work, and scowls at Mikasa. "In case you wanted to finish that problem before dinner."

~Later that night~

"But I don't want to go to high school!" Eren whines, throwing down his controller and glaring at Armin, who's using his bedroom door as a shield. "Eren, if you don't go, you'll end up being a bum. Or a criminal."

"Maybe a drug dealer." Mikasa adds as she passes by, casually balancing a basket of laundry on her hip.

"Yeah, and you would be a terrible drug dealer," Armin tugs nervously at his collar. "You'd be arrested within a week. And we want better for you."

"Like money to buy games for yourself," Mikasa interjects, passing back by with the now-empty basket.

"Yeah."

"But school is boring and dumb and you don't use any of that stuff in real life."

"Eren," Mikasa stands in the doorway, letting Armin cower behind her, looking surprisingly intimidating in a frilly white apron. "You're going to high school. Deal with it. Stop whining. You should start studying for the entrance exam. And, don't even think of failing it on purpose, because I will take away your video games for a _year_. Do you understand?"

"Fiiiiiiiiiine, whatever." Realizing he's lost the argument, Eren turns back to his game, nimbly pounding in combinations of buttons and barking orders into his headset. "C'mon, Connie, don't run towards the grenade, you idiot! You're going to get us all killed!"

Mikasa and Armin share a look and go to their respective rooms, hoping high school might make Eren less… well, whatever word can be used to describe _that_.


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you want your coffee, Eren?"

"Black like my soul."

Mikasa and Armin pause in their morning routine of coffee, eggs, and bacon to cast worried glances at Eren, who's sporting a serious case of bedhead. "Is something wrong, Eren?" Armin asks, sipping his orange juice primly while skimming the newspaper; mornings with him and Mikasa were like watching a married couple. She cooked and he made small comments about today's world while she nodded along. It would be cute if Mikasa wasn't so terrifying, even in her frilly white apron.

"Oh, no, nothing, just that my two best friends have ganged up against me to force me to waste three more years in an education system that will only teach me philosophical and theoretical crap." He punctuates the end of the sentence by shoving a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Eren."

"What? It's true. I just expected more of my two best- and only- friends."

_Manipulative little jerk bag, _Armin thinks as the other boy guzzles the mug of coffee Mikasa sets in front of him. Of course, the coffee is full of cream and sugar, because Eren can't handle coffee without that. It makes him dry heave.

"Armin, would you like more eggs?" Mikasa hovers beside him, pan of eggs in her hands; she's taken to trying to bulk the scrawny boy up. She can't always be around to save Eren and Armin when one or the other inevitable screws up, and Eren's about as useful in a fight as a teddy bear. You'd think he'd be a good fighter with all the crap he says, but nope.

"Sure, thanks, Mikasa."

"Ughhhhhhhhh," Eren groans. "You two are like an old married couple. Groooooooooooooss!"

Armin frowns as Mikasa's grip on the frying pan tightens and he's worried for a moment that she might actually hit Eren with it; although she cares about Eren, sometimes her foster brother makes her want to smash his face in.

This is one of those times.

"Haha- ha, s-so funny, Eren, r-right, Mikasa?" Armin nudges her lightly in the side.

_It's not worth it, it's not worth it, it's so not worth it..._

"Hilarious." she replies in a deadpan voice.

Then Mikasa returns to the stove, fixes herself a plate of food, and takes her seat at the table with a cup of coffee that isn't 2/3s cream and sugar. Eren pouts at them, obviously still hoping he can guilt them into not making him go to school, while Mikasa takes the sport section from Armin and he flips through one on politics, grumbling quietly.

"Eren," Eren jumps at Mikasa's voice, jerking out of a fantasy where he's an epic hero riding off to war. "You shouldn't make faces like that. It's very unattractive." And she hides an evil smirk behind the newspaper while Eren sputters, trying to come up with a response.

~Later that morning~

"Eh, EH, lemme go! Let goooooooo!" Eren whines. Mr. Arlert watches from the front door as Mikasa and his grandson drag Eren down the street, kicking and screaming; apparently the more civilized approach hadn't been working for him. The boy's uniform is wrinkled from all the struggling and his hair is a complete mess.

_Poor kids, having to look after that punk... Hopefully he won't ruin high school for them._

~Even later that morning~

Armin and Mikasa deposit Eren in a seat, who switched from kicking and screaming to pouting and plotting by the time they reached the school; he even stayed quiet during the entrance ceremony, which was some kind of miracle. He settles into the desk, muttering under his breath, and straightens his tie and smoothes the wrinkles out of his sweater.

Armin takes the seat beside him and Mikasa takes the seat in front of him, toying with the fringe on the end of her scarf; out of the three of them, Mikasa looks the best in the uniform. Armin's looks too big on him- because it is, even though it's the small size they had- and Eren's looks messy with his unkempt hair, untucked shirt, and wrinkled pants. Eren runs his fingers through his hair, rubs the sleep from his eyes, and pulls out a comic book to flip through while the teacher is calling roll. Armin sighs; Eren reading comic books in class is probably the best thing they could hope for.

"Mikasa Ackerman?" the teacher calls. "Here."

"Armin Arlert?" Armin raises his hand. "Here."

"Eren Jaeger?" There's silence for a moment.

"Is Eren Jaeger here? Eren?"

Armin attempts to kick Eren, who is totally zoned out, but fails miserably because the space between their desks is too great. So, Mikasa turns around, yanks the comic book out of Eren's hands, and gives him a Death Glare.

"Eren Jaeger?"

"H-here!" Eren calls, frantically waving his hands, trying to not notice the aura of disappointment and anger rolling off of his foster sister.

And thus begins their high school life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for waiting so long to update... Air conditioning was out and it made me kind of loopy, which doesn't help with writer's block.**

**This is reposted from my Archive account~**

**Comments are welcome! ^^**

"Eren Jaeger?"

"Is Eren Jaeger here? Eren?"

"Eren Jaeger?"

"H-here!" Jean glances over at the boy who jumps up, waving his arms like a lunatic, avoiding the gaze of the girl turned around in front of him. His brown hair is messy- not in an artful or attractive way, just plain sticking up and mussed- and his green eyes are wide with fear, shock, and annoyance. He's on the smaller side- not scrawny, per se, but not exactly muscular- and he's probably an inch or two shorter than Jean. His uniform is messy, like he got into a tussle on his way here, and there's a small stain on his shirt collar.

So, basically, he looks like crap.

"You may sit down now, Mr. Jaeger," and the boy does, blatantly ignoring the chorus of snickers that come from being scolded. The girl in front of him plops something on his desk and turns around, face blank but exuding an aura of pissed-off-ness.

For a moment, Jean observes the boy- Eren- as he greedily flips open the comic and flashes a glare at the girl's back before dragging his gaze to the girl. His first thought?

_That has got to be the prettiest girl I have ever seen._

Her hair falls almost to her shoulders, black and glossy, and swoop bangs cut across her forehead, framing a set of dark brown eyes with thick black lashes; her lips are cherry-colored. Her skin is cream-colored with the faintest hint of blush in her cheeks- probably from being annoyed at that Eren kid. She's wearing the navy blue school blazer with a white shirt underneath, a red-brown scarf wrapped around her neck, and the pleated navy uniform skirts rides up to reveal pale thighs. The high knee socks are pulled up perfectly and her black school shoes shine. She looks like the model of a perfect student.

"Jean Kirstein?"

Jean jumps at his name and stutters out a nervous "h-here", flashing a glare at Marco, who's hiding his chuckles in a magazine, while Connie openly laughs and calls Jean a "space cadet". Jean's eyes wander back to the girl, but snap forward when he sees her looking at him and- is that a faint small on her lips? He's too embarrassed to check.

~Later that day~

"Are you eating a potato?" Armin asks incredulously. The girl in front of him- Sasha- took out a raw potato to start eating during their lunch break.

"Mm-hm. Are you going to eat that?" she points at Armin's bento, eyeing it greedily.

"Um," Armin glances over at Mikasa, who shrugs like she couldn't care less, "No. You can have it."

"Thanks so much!" And then the girl is devouring it cheerfully, shoving the food into her mouth so fast it's kind of intimidating. "Aw, it's gone." she frowns at the now empty container.

"Hey, Connie, can I have some of that?" Sasha turns to a boy with a shaved head who is eating a bag of chips whilst mimicking a wrestling move.

"No way! You always eat it all." The boy replies, pausing in his rendition of the move. "I won't this time! I promise! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

"No!"

"But whyyyyyyyyyy?"

"Because, you always-" Connie pauses as Mikasa stands up, walking over to Sasha. She deposits another bento in front of her. "Please stop fighting. It's very distracting." _Which is Mikasa speak for 'please shut up you idiots',_Armin thinks. "Oh, yay, thank you!" Sasha makes to start eating, but Mikasa stops her.

"Try to eat slower. It's more filling that way."

Then Mikasa returns to her desk and goes back to reading her book.

"So cool!" Sasha exclaims, watching Mikasa with sparkly eyes. The girl slowly puts a piece of sushi in her mouth, chewing it with care, and her eyes go wide. "She's right! It does taste like more like this!"

Armin smiles slightly at the miniscule, exasperated head shake Mikasa makes; the girl seems like she never shows any emotions, but its really just a matter of looking for certain things. Even Eren sucks at reading her, and he's known her longer than Armin has.

The thought of Eren draws Armin's gaze to his friend, who's hunched over, scribbling something down in a notebook and periodically shoving some food in his mouth. Nothing good can come of whatever he's doing, but Armin settles for sighing and pulling out a comic book to flip through until class starts up again. Eren doesn't seem to be in the mood for talking.

~That evening~

"What do you want?" Eren grumbles at Mikasa, who stands in the doorway with a bag in her hand.

"I want to make a deal with you," she says in a soft voice. She narrows her eyes at the controller in Eren's had, so he grudgingly pauses his game, and motions for her to continue.

"I got you that new game you wanted." Mikasa pulls a still-wrapped copy of the new hit game Shingeki no Kyojin, holding it between her fingers, and Eren gets a sinking feeling in his chest; things just got serious. "And I will continue to get you new games you want so that you can use your allowance to buy all the manga you want. But," of course there's a but, "in exchange, you have to keep up with your studies, join some type of club or team, and make friends at school."

"Are you bribing me?" Eren stares at his foster sister completely shocked. He didn't think she cared that much about his grades and school life.

"If that's what you want to call it," she replies vaguely. "So is it a deal?"

Eren glances back and forth between the new game- hailed the game of the century by most hardcore gamers- and his foster sister. _Is this worth making a deal with the devil?_Eren ponders. One last look at the game gives him his answer.

"Deal."


End file.
